


Hot Chocolate

by lunaTactics



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hunter x Hunter gift exchange, M/M, hxhgiftexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaTactics/pseuds/lunaTactics
Summary: Written for the HxH Gift Exchange for Rai on tumblr, who requested something warm and domestic, holiday themed, with maybe cuddling and kissing.Kurapika accepts Leorio's invitation to a winter lodge over the holidays. In so doing, he also comes to accept living well again.





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> For Rai, icouldbemoreclever.tumblr.com for the HxH Gift Exchange! There are not as many cuddles or kissing as I meant to add, but I hope the holiday warmth and tenderness still comes across. This is the first work I've completed in a long time, and the first ever for the HxH fandom- I hope you enjoy it!

Kurapika was sinking into abyssal depths. Reproachful faces, half-remembered, glared at him and spat incoherent insults; unseen hands restrained his limbs. Very distantly he thought he heard screaming, loud and bright, and then he slipped off the too-high bed and onto cold hardwood floorboards with a thud. 

He lay there, disoriented. It was only with great difficulty that he finished clawing his way out of the tangled blankets into consciousness; all the while, he could still faintly hear screaming happening in the distance. 

Kurapika sat up. He shook his hair out of his eyes and looked around- the room was dimly lit, thick curtains half-drawn over the single window; the only personal affects in the room were a briefcase lying open on the second bed, spilling neckties and pens and loose notepaper. 

Ah- in the distant cries he could hear laughter now, and words in the yelling. Children outside. Gon and Killua? No, it had been years since they had sounded this young, surely. He hadn’t kept in touch. 

Kurapika stood, braced himself against the bed from which he’d fallen. This was not quite a hotel room, he thought as he oriented himself. It was a… winter lodge of some kind. He pulled open the curtains, the fabric stiff in his hands. Yes, it seemed they had arrived just in time to catch the next snowfall, thick clumps sleeting out of the sky. On the ground below, two children shrieked as they raced around each other in wild loops, exchanging flung clumps of powdery snow, enjoying themselves. Kurapika’s chest ached a little, inexplicably; it was cold and the white sky hurt his eyes so he closed the curtains again.

He passed the suitcase on the other bed as he made his way towards the door. Leorio had brought him here, he remembered, saying something about winter holidays, and Kurapika had acquiesced because, now that he was finished with the mafia and needed to lie low a bit, he had no reason to say no. No reason, and surely not because Leorio’s expression had been so soft when he had asked that Kurapika could not say no. 

The door led out to a shadowed landing, its banister the only thing that separated the stairs from a warmly lit living space below. He could hear movement downstairs, the banging of pots or pans in what was probably the small lodge’s kitchen. For a moment Kurapika hesitated, hair falling down into his eyes again, for the moment unwilling to give himself up from the familiar dark to the life and bustle below- then he was startled into stillness anyway by the jangling of some device’s ringtone. 

Below him metal clattered and a fallen lid called out gwoingwoingwoin as it was discarded; then Kurapika heard Leorio throw himself across the room and bellow, “GON! KILLUA! IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, YOU TWERPS! And Miss Alluka too, Feliz Navidad! How long has it been since I last saw you all?? You’d better let me know what you’ve been up to all this time--“ 

From the top of the stairs Kurapika could hear Gon’s bright laughter filtering through the connection—mellowed by age and lower than Kurapika remembered it. Leorio quietened down as either Gon or Killua or Miss Alluka, whom Kurapika had never met in person, said something on the other line. Leorio’s voice dropped to a soft rumble, and absurdly, this was what drew Kurapika down the steps, like a moth after retreating lamplight. 

He set his foot down carefully on each smooth oak step, hoping against his own hope that they wouldn’t creak and reveal him creeping around in the lodge he was guesting in. Leorio was still talking softly to the screen, his back to the stairs—from here Kurapika could see it was a wider device than what he was used to, better, he would assume, for this type of video call. Maybe it gave a wider view of the recipient—and no sooner than he had had this thought than the sound of someone screaming startled him again and he stumbled on the last step. Leorio was already turning around.

“Leorio,” Kurapika said, trying to regain his composure. On the screen he could still hear the screaming- resolved now into a girl’s excited chatter; something about Leorio who’s that behind you, is that Kurapika- but his focus was split between his jangling nerves and Leorio’s face. It was like teetering on a knife’s edge, suddenly, and Kurapika was sure he must fall one way or the other or be cut in half. 

Leorio’s hand drifted up and hit a button on the device; the screen was still displaying a dark-haired girl in a knitted hat pushing her face past two familiar young men, but the sound cut out with that motion. Into the quiet Leorio said, “Kurapika. I wasn’t expecting you up so soon; did you sleep well? I’m making hot cocoa, if you want some.” Behind Leorio, into the kitchen, Kurapika could see ingredients scattered on the counter, and a pot on the stove producing white froth with exuberance. Closer to, bright, colorful lights festooned the walls haphazardly, throwing off light at cheery intervals. And before everything else, there was the expression on Leorio’s face: soft as down, warm as the hearthfire, and as open as an embrace. 

Against the sheer domestic comfort of the situation, braced against Leorio’s smile, Kurapika found his balance again, although not his words. He opened his mouth a bit, then closed it. “That sounds… That sounds wonderful. Yes, of course, Leorio.” He stepped at last into the light of the living room, resolving not to admit that he only had a vague idea of what hot cocoa was. 

Leorio levered himself out of the couch where he had sprawled and smiled fully at Kurapika. For a moment, he simply looked at Kurapika, and Kurapika looked back tentatively. 

“You need to get a haircut,” Leorio said fondly, brushing Kurapika’s bangs out of his eyes. 

Kurapika felt something tender in his chest pulse at the touch- perhaps it was his heart, despite everything- and a laugh bubbled up in his throat as he fought back the entirely unreasonable prickling in his eyes. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said, choked. It felt as though Kurapika hadn’t returned to living until just now, as he threw his arms around Leorio and was held in return. He felt Leorio lean down and press a tender kiss to his messy hair, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver. For what felt like a comfortable eon they stayed there, holding each other close.

Of course, the domestic realm has its own demands. Leorio’s erstwhile boiling pot commanded their attention when it boiled over and put out the gas stove, forcing them to scramble to clean it up and air out the kitchen. In the process, Kurapika received an education in the delights of hot beverages in winter after all.

Later, after the hot cocoa was cleaned up, remade, and served, and soft kisses exchanged again, Leorio picked up the video call picked up where he’d left it off:

“WHA- Mind your own business, brat!”

Young voices clamored in response: “Not our fault you didn’t mute YOUR mike, old man,” and “We heard everything, Mr. ‘Orio! You can’t hide from us!!” and “I’m glad Leorio and Kurapika are having fun together!”

Leorio spluttered objections and protests, but didn’t let go of Kurapika’s hand under the table, where the cheeky kids on the other side of the call didn’t have a view. Surrounded by warmth and love, Kurapika let himself smile.


End file.
